


Consolation

by unknowableroom_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Drama, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-05
Updated: 2011-03-09
Packaged: 2019-01-19 16:02:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12413382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unknowableroom_archivist/pseuds/unknowableroom_archivist
Summary: When the Gryffindor Quidditch team loses a decisive match and their captain, Oliver Wood, falls into a solitary funk, they no choice but to send in someone to snap him out of it. Oliver Wood & Katie Bell.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Note from ChristyCorr, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Unknowable Room](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Unknowable_Room), a Harry Potter archive active from 2005-2016. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project after May 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Unknowable Room collection profile](http://www.archiveofourown.org/collections/unknowableroom).

* * *

 

**CONSOLATION  
By Shrk-Bait**

* * *

  **Author's Note**

This is really unexpected. Signs of life after a solid three years of silent, fanfiction death! This story is fully finished, four completed chapters guaranteed. I wanted to be sure not to post another abandoned story. I know it's not James and Lily, but I like Oliver and Katie. It leaves a lot of room for interpretation since it technically doesn't exist. This was my take. There aren't too many out there and I thought I would put in my little contribution. I hope you enjoy it!

**Disclaimer**

This story is based on characters and situations owned by JK Rowling.

* * *

**Chapter 1**

* * *

 

 

"Alicia, _please_. I can feel you worrying from all the way over here," she mumbled. Katie Bell looked over the latest edition of Quidditch Monthly at the nervous figure in the middle of the courtyard. "I'm sure they'll talk some sense into him."

She lay the magazine open on her lap and mustered up a look meant to convey comfort, but failed miserably in actually doing so. Alicia gave herself a little shake and took a deep breath, but seemed as tense as ever.

"This is Oliver Wood we're talking about."

"Exactly! He's probably been restored his usual tyrannical self. We'll be back on the pitch by tomorrow morning, probably with doubled practice hours for the next two weeks."

"But it was supposed to be our year, and this was a big loss-- especially for Oliver," she sighed, searching Katie's face for a reaction. Katie barely moved. She didn't even look up. Alicia let out an exasperated groan and blurted out, "You really expect me to believe that you're not worried?"

Alicia Spinnet's voice trailed off, leaving behind a strange hint of prying curiosity. If Katie had noticed the peculiar tone, she certainly did nothing to address it.

"Why should I be?" Katie muttered flipping a page in her magazine and continuing to read. It was short and dismissive and not the answer Alicia had been hoping to hear. In fact, with Katie's inflection and slightly raspy voice, it sounded almost cruel.

Still, they had been friends for a long time, long enough for Alicia to know that Katie was not heartless. Katie Bell could be stubborn and guarded and hard to decipher. She could deny emotion and feign indifference, but she always cared-- even if she didn't always like to admit it.

Just then, George Weasley leapt into view. He struck an exaggerated pose-- hands planted proudly on his hips and chest pushed out with pride. Fred Weasley and Angelina Johnson followed with much less enthusiasm.

"We have found our wayward captain," George announced.

"We could barely get a proper sentence out of him." Angelina sat down on the cold, marble bench and let out a frustrated groan.

"The git just blew right past us," Fred grumbled as his lanky arms fell limply at his sides. "I feel so rejected."

"Fret not, brother. It wasn't personal," George assured him. "The time he chased us out of the locker room, spitting and cursing at us for jinxing his broom before practice-- that may have been a little bit personal."

"Such a nasty temper, that Oliver Wood. No sense of humor."

"And the things that came out of his mouth! I never--" Fred began, before Alicia cut him off with a testy glare.

"Enough you two," she snapped. "Now is not the time. Where is he, then?"

Getting answers from the Twins seemed like a strained endeavor, so Alicia quickly turned to Angelina. Angelina looked over to where the tower tops peeked over the stone walls, the flags mounted at their heads waving violently in the high winds.

"He was heading out towards the field," she sighed. "Probably moping around in one of the viewing towers."

"Deciding whether or not to throw himself off," Fred chuckled to the side.

His voice hadn't been particularly loud and he didn't mean it as anything more than edgy side commentary, but it was a small courtyard and there was not enough distance between them all to allow fleeting dashes of comedy to slip past unnoticed.

"That's not funny, Fred," she said with a scowl. Angelina was accustomed to rebuking him and Fred was no stranger to her scolding, but he sensed that this was not time for jokes and immediately straightened his face. Having had just lost a match, they were all on edge.

"Oh come off it, Ang." He slid onto the bench and swung his arm around her shoulder. He shook it lightly with a tender nudge. She let him linger there, which he took to mean that the tension had passed. "I'm only kidding."

"--We _hope_. But let's not take any chances. Someone should try and talk to him," Alicia suggested.

The group agreed almost unanimously. The only exceptions were Katie, so engrossed in her magazine that she took little notice of her teammates, and Harry, who was the newest and youngest and not present at all.

One by one, they looked over at Katie and settled upon the same idea. It was a chorus of suppressed grins and silent nods. With a loud, echoing clap, George gave Katie's shoulder a friendly pat and, on behalf of the team, delivered the verdict: "You're up, champ."

If the suspicious attempts to keep quiet had not caught her attention, then the unexpected conditions of her sacrifice certainly did the trick. She popped up and whipped around to face the others.

"What?" she croaked, breathing deeply and trying to compose herself. "No, no, no. You know I'm terrible with consolation."

"It has to be you," Angelina insisted. "You know Oliver better than anyone."

Katie froze. "That's not true."

"C'mon Katie, it's for the team!" Alicia urged.

"Well, we can just get Harry to talk to him then," she suggested quickly, almost desperately. "I'm sure he's around here somewhere."

Fred let out a bark of laughter. George looked at her like she was mad and Angelina gave her a wilted, pitiful smile that said it all. The idea was ridiculous and Katie knew it, but she resented how easily they dismissed her.

"You think sending _Harry_ to deal with Wood is a good idea?" grumbled George. "We do want him to stay around for the next few years, don't we? We need a Seeker."

Alicia, sensing the tension building and Katie's temper flaring, piped in quickly- "Harry has enough to deal with as it is. Look, we all know that dealing with Oliver at times like this can be a bit tense."

"So you're sending me. Brilliant idea," Katie groaned. "I love Harry, but we've sheltered him long enough. He's young, he's clever, he can't go wrong! Besides, Oliver really likes Harry."

"Well if you put it that way, you know Oliver also really l--" Angelina remarked quietly before being deftly silenced by Katie's frigid glare.

To the others, Angelina was only teasing, but to Katie, it was the sign of an impending betrayal. The two girls had been best friends ever since the start of Hogwarts. They were both outspoken, but Angelina was always a little more aggressive. Still, they shared the same temper, and Angelina knew she had hit a nerve with that one.

Katie had a fight in her that, when provoked, could look quite nasty.

It made her an excellent Chaser--driven, aggressive, relentless. With the Quaffle in her arms, she would shoot past the defenders like a hurricane and hurl the ball with singular focus, right past the Keeper and straight into the goal.

When Katie was on a rampage, it was in everyone's best interest to proceed with caution. It started with a narrowing of the eyes and a crazed look of simultaneous focus and disassociation. She wasn't just concentrated; she was possessed. It was a fast and deadly shift from her normally easy nature to her brutal wrath.

Years of splintered broomsticks and bruised opponents had warned them of that. Fred, who had been her teammate for all those years and her friend for even longer, saw that look boiling dangerously under the surface. Panic crossed his face and he promptly decided that it was the right moment to change tactics.

"Okay look at it this way. Our Keeper needs a keeper, Bell," Fred told her kindly. "I'd do it, but it just so happens to be _your_ turn."

"It is, is it? How do you figure that?"

"Well, I took the blame for being late to practice before that scrimmage game last week," George said immediately.

"That's because it was _your_ fault," Angelina insisted, shaking her head. "I stayed behind after the great Ravenclaw debacle of last year."

"But was that really by choice? I seem to remember you were slow to leave the locker room and got _stuck_ listening to him rant," Fred teased. Angelina shot him a scathing look and he responded with a wincing smile.

"I don't see you going to great lengths to assist our dear Captain, Weasley," she snapped back.

"Au contraire. Post-Slytherin semifinals--I lent him my beater for... stress relief."

"Oh, like that coun--"

"Enough! Oliver's upset and we're just sitting here arguing," Alicia's voice of reason silenced the bickering. "We've all done our fair share for the team, but let's face it-- Oliver's done a lot more. So let's just try to cheer him up, okay?"

Their chatter fell to murmurs of agreement.

It was true that Oliver Wood took devotion to an unprecedented extreme. Quidditch wins and losses were not about the outcome or the thrill of the competition. They were about pride, effort, reason for existence. It was an understatement to simply say he cared about the game.

They knew this from the beginning, but despite his strict demands and maniacal energy, having Oliver Wood as Gryffindor Captain made Quidditch what it was.  
They were a family because of Oliver and Katie knew this well.

She took a deep breath and finally conceded, "Alright. I'll go, but don't blame me if he still ends up splattered over the pitch."

Katie stood up, tucked the magazine into her bag, and gave her scarf a firm tug for warmth. She did not look particularly happy, but she wasn't entirely angry either. Angelina swore she saw an anxious blush on her friend's cheeks, though Katie would have certainly attributed the sudden flush to cold weather and poor circulation.

"Now, Bell, remember that he's especially sensitive right now," Fred warned as he and his brother began to follow her out of the courtyard.

"Yes, and you do not want to make things worse, so try not to be so--"

"So _what_ , Weasley," she asked with a threatening growl. "Do you two want to do this instead of me?"

"No, no," they said in unison, trailing behind as Katie sped up to get away. They watched her moved further down the hall, her figure growing smaller and smaller.

"We're just trying to be supportive," Fred hollered, but she was already gone. He gave a shrug. "Think she'll survive?"

"She seems like she's in a bit of a foul mood too. Maybe the real question we should ask is if Wood is going to survive."

They shared a chuckle and headed back to the other girls, who were sitting close together and speaking in lowered voices.

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Alicia asked, nervously. "Katie's not really the comforting type. I'm more worried she'll toss him off that tower than talk him down from it."

"Trust me," Angelina replied with an impish grin. "If anyone can take Oliver's mind off this, it's her."

Alicia's eyes grew wide in a sudden flash of understanding. She gave a slow nod of delighted approval. Their soft giggles were interrupted by the reappearance of the Weasley twins, hovering nosily around them.

"Oy, what are you two twittering about over here?"

"Nothing," Alicia answered, though a little too nervously.

Fred and George shared skeptical looks. They were natural-born schemers and could smell the hint of a plot. Angelina, however, knew that despite their suspicions, Fred and George Weasley were clueless. They were only boys, and unobservant boys at that.

"Just discussing the welfare of our Captain," she assured them coolly. Angelina looked up at the dark clouds floating heavily above the castle. "We better get inside. It looks like it's going to rain any minute now."

They all began to shuffle indoors. Angelina took one last look at the distant Quidditch towers and smiled to herself before following the others inside.

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**Thanks for reading! Please review!**


	2. Consolation

**CONSOLATION  
By Shrk-Bait**

 

**Author's Note**

These next two are the more serious chapters, I guess. They felt a lot more difficult to write. You know-- drama. Anyway, thank you so much to those who are reading this and especially those who reviewed. It's funny because I usually write James/Lily, but I just felt like there wasn't enough Oliver/Katie and so I just decided to write one myself. Minor character couples can be really interesting and, in this case, totally underrated. There are so many directions to take with it, so I guess this is just my take. I hope you enjoy it!

 

**Chapter 2**

She looked up at the three hoops raised high above her. The sky was gloomy, but Katie didn't mind. It fit her brooding just fine.

She kept replaying the game in her head, going over each goal scored and each chance missed. They were so close-- again. If her hand hadn't slipped during that reverse pass, if Anthony Rickett hadn't intercepted their Porkshoff ploy, if they had perfected the Hawkshead formation at practice like Oliver wanted--

Her mind wandered back to Oliver. She had almost forgotten. She was supposed to find Oliver. He could be anywhere.

The Hogwarts field stretched for over 150 yards and there were five spectator towers, each with a spiraling staircase that took a significant amount of energy and a solid ten minutes to climb.

"Okay, so let's pretend I'm Oliver Wood," she muttered to herself, scanning the pitch for inspiration. "Now... where would I be?"

Her gaze settled once again on the three Hufflepuff hoops. If they had clung on to the Quaffle for just a little longer or if they had managed to score just a few more goals, they would all be celebrating and Oliver Wood would be parading around the Common Room with his chest puffed out, not moping around the pitch, revisiting the painful circumstances of their loss.

And then, Katie knew. She knew where he would be. The wind began to pick up as she headed straight towards the tower at the other end of the pitch.

Her mind stirred nervously with each step. She had always been tough. She wasn't sympathetic or comforting or even particularly encouraging. They had lost a desperately important match and winning the House Cup was a near impossibility now. Some people could see silver linings in any situation, but Katie was not one of those people. Everything she could think to say ended the same way and not in a way that would help Oliver feel any better. She dreaded having to speak to him and prayed it would end quickly. The steps seemed endless.

When she finally reached the top of the stairs, there he was-- sitting on the bench with his body hunched over and his hands fidgeting restlessly. He stared down at the wooden floor, brooding and distraught.

For a moment, she just watched him, unsure how she should interrupt or if she should interrupt at all. She hadn't thought of anything particularly inspiring to say. Perhaps Oliver just needed some time alone. Yes, that was it. He didn't need her to try to cheer him up or risk possibly make things worse.

She took a quiet step back to leave. The step creaked-- just her luck. It was too much to hope that he hadn't heard. Oliver looked up instantly.

"Oliver Wood," she stuttered and winced a little. There was no getting out of it now. She had been caught. "Fancy seeing you here."

He gave her a weak smile and she returned it. Neither of them was very convincing. The air at the top of the tower was especially cold, but Katie felt a sudden rush of discomfort that warmed her. Oliver had yet to say something and Katie wanted nothing more than to leave. She loosened the tight grip of the scarf around her neck.

"Did the team send you?" he asked, looking away.

Katie chuckled nervously, "And here I was trying to be all subtle about it."

She looked at Oliver, staring out at the field. Honestly, she was just thankful he wasn't looking at her; his silence made things painful enough. _Say something_ , she begged him silently. _Oliver, please say something._

He seemed unaffected by her demands. Oliver always seemed to have something to say-- before the match, after the match, across the hallway, at the breakfast table, between classes, in the middle of the night. There was always something. Something about eating properly before matches, getting a decent amount of sleep, practicing broom maintenance, exercising flight drills, incorporating strategies, building team unity. But not this time. This time, he was silent.

It was unlike him, and it was only now that Katie began to worry.

_Okay_ , she told herself. _I"ll say something._ She sifted through her brain, revisiting old memories and conversations. They had been on the same team for years. It's not as if they had never spoken, but at this moment, nothing helpful came to mind.

"So, did you see the latest article on Puddlemere United?" she finally blurted, unable to withstand the unsettling air between them. It did not occur to her until after she spoke that, considering his present woes, he might not want to discuss Quidditch. She cursed herself and prepared for the worst.

"When did it come in? This morning?" he asked, revealing a hint of the Oliver Wood she was much more accustomed to. "My owl must've gotten lost again."

"You can borrow my copy," she offered, tossing him the magazine. He looked grateful and Katie felt slightly relieved.

"I didn't realize you follow them," he said offhandedly as he skimmed through the pages.

"Well, I'm more of a Harpies fan myself," she replied thoughtfully. "But I like Puddlemere well enough. They've hit a rotten losing streak lately, but I'm sure they'll get themselves out of it."

"I think so too. It's good to know someone agrees with me," he said, smiling. "Wilda Griffiths used to be on the Harpies, didn't she?"

"She's actually one of the reasons I started following Puddlemere."

They slipped into an easy calm, as they always did when it came to Quidditch. It was the one solid thing they knew they always had in common. It all started to feel normal again, like Gryffindor hadn't lost the match and they weren't both upset and Oliver wasn't the captain and Katie hadn't been sent to bring him back.

"The Holyhead Harpies, huh? Well, Gwenog Jones is a bit too intense for me," Oliver started to say.

Katie held back a scoff and waived the temptation to comment on the irony of Oliver Wood calling anyone "intense."

He didn't seem to notice and continued on, "But she's a great captain. She knows how to keep morale going. I've got to give her that."

His words carried a sad tone and his mouth moved with a twitch of jealousy. They both fell silent. Oliver went back to staring down at his hands and Katie, not knowing what else to do, went back to staring down at the floor. The brief familiarity between them passed quickly and the air grew stale with their awkwardness.

Katie could see, quite clearly, that he was upset, regardless of how he tried to hide it. At that moment, she wished she had the calm calculation of Angelina or the selfless compassion of Alicia or the disarming charm of Fred and George. They would know what to do. They would know what to say, but Katie was on her own and nothing particularly helpful came to mind.

"Can I ask you a question?" Katie asked suddenly, surprised by her own boldness. "And can we maybe pretend like you're not the team Captain and we're just... I don't know... friends?"

"What do you mean?" he asked, confused. "I thought we were."

She didn't know how to respond. Were they? She had never thought of it much.

Even before he took his place as Captain, she had always felt it was a part of him. He was the only one who cared that much, who cared enough. From what she heard, Oliver had staked his claim as future captain since he first made the team. Not only that, but he apparently worked himself to frequent exhaustion just to prove it. Quidditch was a part of him, something assumed and unquestioned.

She hesitated, "Just don't make me fly extra laps or anything."

He laughed, but agreed. Katie Bell took a deep breath and gathered her courage.

"Why do you let it get to you like this? I know you don't handle defeat well and neither do I, but sometimes you shut down. Or you freak out. Or you disappear. Like today, you just storm off without a word and we find you up here and of course we have no idea what you're thinking and Alicia is seriously worried that you might just hop over the railing and splatter yourself all over the pitch."

"Wouldn't that be a mess?" He said with a dark chuckle.

She ignored it and continued, "It's not really my place to say anything and you don't have to explain yourself to me, but it's just a game."

For a while, he said nothing. Katie had always been a strong girl with an outspoken voice, but there was a layer of timidity under her bravado that made him pause. He looked at her softly, but she missed it. She had been staring at the floor, cheeks red from embarrassment and cold. Oliver got up from his seat and stood next to her, leaning against the outer railing and looking out at the stormy clouds.

"Katie, you're a good Chaser-- great, even," he admitted. Katie coughed suddenly and gave him a skeptical look. He laughed at her surprise. "What, you think I haven't noticed? We've only been on the same team for years. Don't think I don't know you."

She opened her mouth to speak, but he stopped her with a look. Katie knew him too. She noticed his eyes narrowing into a dark focus and the sides of his jaw stiffening. She knew that this meant he was serious, but she had never really seen him serious about much other than Quidditch and it scared her a bit.

"You don't think it's just a game. You say that, but you don't mean it," he said quietly. "When you were too sick to keep playing that Ravenclaw match last autumn and I had to take you out, you wouldn't talk to me for a week. You always hide your injuries because you think I won't notice and I'll let you play. You complain about practices and you hate me for pushing you so hard, but sometimes you go out and fly on your own time so you'll get better."

She felt her cheeks grow hot. She didn't expect him to have noticed. She rarely caused problems, made few mistakes, and played a solid game. She was a strong player, but nothing spectacular. She blended into the team well-- nothing in desperate need of discipline or correction, nothing to constantly rave about or praise. But Oliver was the Captain, and she told herself that he must make it a point to notice everything.

He continued: "I'm willing to bet that you weren't a part of this team mission to cheer me up. They volunteered you. You were probably sitting somewhere all calm and composed, acting like this loss doesn't really affect you. But in your head, I know you're going crazy thinking of strategies we should've used and ways we could've scored more."

She looked right at him, as if staring him down would help figure him out. She didn't understand how Oliver could see through her so easily when she couldn't seem to read him at all.

He matched her unblinking stare and said calmly, "You're telling me it's just a game, but I know you, Katie Bell. You don't mean it."

"Well, but--" she began, but stopped as she realized that he was right. It made her angry. She resented how well he knew her and how easily he picked apart her mood. "So what if I don't? We're not talking about me, are we?"

"I know, I know. I'm sorry. Look, I don't mean to worry anyone," he assured her. "I know I can be a little... crazy... sometimes, but you understand, right?"

He took a deep breath and looked away.

"It's not just a game to me. It's who I am."

Katie had been listening so intently, she barely noticed it starting to rain. The water splattered on the roof of the observation tower and ran down its slope, pouring over the edge before making the long drop down to the ground below. Katie frowned as she watched the storm gathering intensity.

She had forgotten her umbrella in the common room and, at this rate, it would be hours before the rain let up. She never liked it-- water soaking through her clothes and weighing down her body, covering her skin in cold air and goosebumps.

Still, as she stood there, caught in the silence between them, she couldn't help but welcome the sound of rain.

 

**Thanks for reading! Please review!**


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